


Lifeday

by deprough



Series: Dincember 2020 [12]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Dincember, Dincember 2020, F/M, Non-Explicit Sex, prompt: Christmas / Lifeday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deprough/pseuds/deprough
Summary: Lifeday in Libu, and the goodbyes.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Dincember 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032882
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Lifeday

**Author's Note:**

> This is part twelve and the final story of Dincember. You'll want to read the series in order so that everything makes sense.
> 
> 12/25/2020 Dincember prompt - Christmas / Lifeday

Corrie woke up next to Mando again, knowing it was probably the last time or one of the last times. Still blindfolded, she rolled over and looped her arm over his chest. He stirred and she felt him turn his head and nuzzle her hair. “Stay today, please,” she said. “Leave tomorrow.”

“I will,” he said, his voice regretful. “I need to go check on the kid.”

“I know,” she said. “Tell me when I can take this thing off.” 

He slipped away from her and she snuggled under the blankets, listening to him dress. Finally, he said, “Okay.” Corrie pulled off the blindfold and blinked in the soft light of her room. He looked imposing and untouchable, so different than the considerate, patient lover she’d gotten to know. “Should I come back later?”

“Brama will probably bring you back over for breakfast,” Corrie told him. “She’s planning to eat with me today.”

“Then I’ll see you later.” His voice had warmth in it, and it wasn’t love, but Corrie liked it. 

She listened until he was gone, then hopped out of bed. She showered quickly, aware that she had a lot to get done before breakfast. When she’d been a kid, she’d never understood how much work her parents had done to make Lifeday a pleasure for her and her brothers. 

She started the oven and put in the sweet breads, then pulled out the remaining gifts. Most of the kids’ gifts were out on the Lifeday table, set out last night after they’d been to bed. The rest were for Mando and his family, and not just from her and Brama. The entire town had slipped her gifts in secret that she’d hidden under her stairs for today. His pile was larger than her kids, and she couldn’t mind. He’d given her town the best gift of all, and they were trying to repay him. In front of the pile of gifts, she put the bag holding the credits for the Wookie -- not as a gift, but as payment for his services. 

_ And then he’ll leave. _ She didn’t want him to, but she wouldn’t be that selfish. She knew his reasons for staying on the move. With that done, she took one last look around the house and made sure she’d prepared everything. The red banners with knitted flowers and snowflakes hung from the mantle and the doors; garlands of evergreens and red ribbons wound up the bannister on the staircase. The gifts were on the gift table, and everything looked to be in order. 

The door opened and Brama came in, followed by Mando and the bassinet. Brama had more gifts, and Mando carried her massive pot of hot chocolate. “Happy Lifeday!” Corrie said loudly, giving her mother, Mando, and the baby a hug. When she finished with the little one, she set him down and said, “Would you like to get Raina and Lonneric up?”

The child looked at the stairs, so Corrie nodded encouragingly. With surprising speed, he went after her two sleepyheads. Laughing, she turned to Mando. “Always move faster then they want something, don’t they?”

“They do.” He glanced at the table and asked, “Do I see my name on one of those?”

“Your name is on a lot of them, but we don’t open until after breakfast.” Corrie saw his helmet pull back but a storm of feet from above signaled the arrival of the children. “That was fast! Alright,” she directed them away from the table firmly, “everyone wash their hands, then take a seat.”

“One gift, please!” Raina clasped her hands in front of her and dropped to her knees. Lonneric joined her a second later, his own pleading, “Just one!” The baby watched them with wide eyes.

“Nope, gifts after we eat.” Connie looked at her mom, who helped her physically herd the two bigger kids, while Mando got his child into the highchair. The kids tore into the sweetbreads, practically inhaling them. Just to build character, Corrie made the kids wait until the adults finished before she turned them loose on their gifts.

“Come here,” she said, drawing Mando and the baby over to their pile. “Here,” she said, handing the little on a bundle as big as himself. He gazed at it, then up to her, and her heart broke a little at the clear confusion.

“Open it.” Mando’s soft voice cut through the sadness. “It’s for you. Here, pull this.” He touched a ribbon. Hesitantly, the child pulled on it and the package fell partially open. He looked up at his father, who nodded encouragingly, and then the little one pulled out the stuffed gurt toy. “That’s a cute toy,” Mando remarked, and Corrie swore his calm voice was thicker with emotion. The baby tried to hand it to him, and he said, “No, that’s yours to play with. Do you want to open another?”

The baby nodded, and Mando sat down next to the table and pulled over another gift. “Oh, this is for me. Should I open it?” The baby’s ears rose and he nodded. “Okay, let’s see what Kend got me. He’s the older deputy, right?”

“Yeah,” Corrie said, feeling tears threaten at how unfair this galaxy had been to the two of them; how it had denied them some of the simplest of pleasures.

Mando pulled the gift open, his son watching from his lap. When he pulled the cloth wrapping back and saw the silvered blaster, he seemed unsure what to say. He picked up the note and read, “‘It’s shiny like you, so I thought it would look better on your hip.’”

Smiling a little, Corrie pulled back to give them privacy as she went to her own gifts. Like Mando, she had gifts from all over town though the ones from her closest loves were her favorites; Lonneric gave her a piece of carved soap, and Raina had punched holes in a piece of felt and “embroidered” a little  _ picca _ flower for her. Brama had replaced a pot Corrie had been forced to convert into a planter after the handle broke. Koda gave her a whole bundle of carded wool and a promise that he’d card for her all year.

Sitting back in her favorite chair, she watched her children play with their grandmother, while Mando and his child sat in an ever-growing mountain of gifts. She tried not to cry as the little one seemed as lost as he was grateful. Mando seemed to sense it too, and stopped giving him more gifts. The little one finally picked out a wooden zixcat and went to play with Raina and Lonneric. The adults watched; Mando in silence while Brama and Corrie took care of dishes and the next meal. 

After lunch, the kids went outside to play, and Mando caught Corrie by the arm. “Hey, I don’t really think I have room for all of this on the ship.” He waved at the gifts. “Can you and the kids use it?”

His matter-of-fact statement about it finished Corrie’s resolve to not lose it. She tried to say, “Whatever you need to do,” and instead she burst into tears. She heard her mother’s knitting needles stop abruptly. 

“I’m sorry.” Mando put his hands on her arms, clearly upset. She still couldn’t speak, and she helplessly shook her head as her mother joined them, putting an arm around her shoulders. 

“It’s not you, I promise,” Brama said to Mando as she steered her away. “Give us a moment?”

“Of course.” 

Brama pulled her into her bedroom and sat her down on the bed, tugging her close. It was too much like when her mother had held her when Loren had died, and the tears just flowed faster. “It’s okay,” her mother said softly, rubbing her arm. “It’s okay.”

“He didn’t understand Lifeday. The baby. He didn’t have a  _ clue _ ,” Corrie finally managed to choke out and her mother nodded. 

“Thanks to you, he does now,” Brama said gently. It didn’t help, because all Corrie could think was that in fifty long years, no one had ever shown that kid the simple pleasure of Lifeday, or anything like it. Brama didn’t say any more; she just let her daughter cry until the tears were done. 

When Corrie sat up straight and sighed in frustration, her mother said, “I’d say, just tell Mando that he can take what he can, and we’ll figure it out when he’s gone.”

The reminder that he was leaving tomorrow definitely didn’t help Corrie’s mood. “That’s what I was trying to say before my emotions got the better of me. Ugh, have I ruined Lifeday, you think?”

“No.” Her mother smiled. “I think he understands, too.” 

Mando looked up when she came back to the main floor, and Corrie said, “Sorry about that. Whatever you need to do with the gifts. We’ll work it out here.”

“I don’t want to insult anyone in town,” he said quickly.

“No one will be insulted,” Corrie said firmly.  _ And if they are, they’d better keep that to themselves. _ “We understand you have limited space.”

“And there’s this. This is my gift for you.” He handed her the bag with the credits for the Wookie’s bounty in it. 

“I don’t understand,” Corrie said. “This was our agreed fee.” 

“I brought in the Wookie for you, for free. This is all I can give you, Corrie, in thanks for all that you have done. Your town, your family--” He cupped her cheek with his hand, his fingers tangling in her hair. “You.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, smiling at him.

They spent the afternoon opening the remaining gifts and picking out which ones Mando could take. Her town had opened their hearts and given the best they had to their savior, and he seemed to know that as he carefully made his choices. The rest, Corrie set aside to deal with later, when he was gone. For now, she stacked them in the front closet. She couldn’t bear to look at them right now, and she dreaded explaining this to Raina, who was both perceptive enough to notice, and too young to understand without a lot of explanation from her mother.

She managed to get through dinner and the day without another outburst, thankfully. Her mother and Mando were both gentle with her, and she accepted their care without comment. It had been one of Loren’s gifts to her; teaching her to just relax into being cared for rather than trying to tough it out. Thoughts of her lost husband didn’t help her emotional turmoil, but she didn’t let herself dwell on that. There would be time to mourn tomorrow.

After the kids were asleep, Corrie showered and sat on her bed in her robe, waiting. She ran the scarf that was her customary blindfold through her fingers and listened to the silence. Finally, she heard someone softly open the door, then light steps on the stairs. A quiet tap at her door finally brought a smile to her face, and she let him in.

They didn’t speak, and didn’t need to say anything to each other. Corrie helped Mando out of his armor, and he blindfolded her, and then they crashed into one another. It wasn’t violent or harsh, but the patience of before had faded in knowledge that this was their last night together. Corrie knew she’d likely have a long wait before she could find another partner for this, and she suspected that Mando was as picky as she was.

Exhaustion claimed her in the small hours of the morning, but when he woke her up for one more coupling, she responded eagerly. By the time the sun’s rays pierced the horizon, Corrie was tired, sore, and physically sated. Emotionally, she was already missing the stranger who hadn’t left yet.

They lay quietly together for a long moment. She felt the second he summoned his willpower; sensed the shift in his body that signaled the coming departure. “I need to leave,” he said softly. 

“I know,” she said. He cupped her face and gave her one last, sweet kiss, then slipped out of bed. She let him go without complaint, listening to him dress. She could have protested, and a small part of her that had enjoyed having a bed companion again wanted to speak out. He wasn’t the staying kind, and she wasn’t the leaving kind, and they’d both known this. 

She wasn’t in love, she was lonely. Or perhaps just horny.

“You can take it off,” he said softly. 

She did, blinking at him in the dim bedroom. Sitting up, she asked, “Do you want us to see you off?”

“No.” He didn’t say it’d be easier, but they both heard it. 

“Okay,” she said, yawning. “I’m going to go back to sleep.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice warm. “It was good to celebrate Lifeday again.”

“It was the least we could do after all you’ve given us.” Corrie watched him silently shrug off the comment. “You’re welcome to come back and visit anytime.”

“I will,” he said. “When it’s safe.” Corrie couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but she didn’t call him on it or probe. He would come back or he wouldn’t. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Mando.” Then he was gone from her life as rapidly as he had entered it. She stayed in bed until she heard the  _ Crest _ lift off, then she got up, showered and started her day. She’d miss him, but life would go on after he’d helped them set things right. Her people would survive because of him, and that was enough.


End file.
